


Finding Him Again

by valda



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conflict Resolution, Emperor Hux, Jealousy, Lack of Communication, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 21:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11170173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: They have everything they ever wanted. So why are they miserable?





	Finding Him Again

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kylux Cantina, week eight, [this prompt](http://kyluxcantina.tumblr.com/post/160414931431/he-thought-it-was-lost-but-he-finds-it-again-one). Also on Tumblr [here](http://cosleia.tumblr.com/post/160465562438/finding-him-again).

There is a monotony to his days, each and every one exactly the same as the one before. He rises before the sun; he trains; he washes, dresses, and eats; he attends his emperor. There was a time when that last daily task was not a chore, but Kylo can hardly remember it.

Emperor Armitage I receives petitioners for most of the day, taking only a short break when the sun is highest for a private meal. After the day’s last petitioner has been seen, the emperor retires to his private chambers, where Kylo stands guard. They eat their evening meal in silence, and then the emperor moves to the bed with his datapad, and Kylo sits in a chair and waits for him to tire. Once His Majesty has fallen asleep, Kylo plucks the datapad from his fingers, locks it, sets it on the bedside table, and slips beneath the blankets to rest beside him.

Every day is the same. It is a quiet life. It is a life Kylo should feel thankful for. It’s what they worked for, all those years ago, what they finally achieved together.

It is life, but it is lifeless.

Kylo trains in the gardens. It is secluded within the maze of topiaries and carefully manicured hedges. New Imperial Center has six moons; it’s rare for one of them not to be up, meaning that even before dawn the gardens are flooded in silvery light. There was once a sort of magic in it, but now even this ghostly limning is routine.

He spends two hours training, both with his lightsaber and without, working to maintain his endurance and strength. As the sun rises, he is meditating, casting his consciousness deep into the living Force. Sometimes he sees the past, and those times are the best, and the worst.

This time, Hux’s general’s cap has slipped halfway off. He is astride Kylo, covered in a sheen of sweat, gasping for breath, bouncing up and down on Kylo’s cock. Each time he drives Kylo home, an utterly intoxicating half-grunt, half-whine is forced out between his parted lips. Kylo’s gloved hands grip Hux’s hips, jamming him down even harder.

“I’ll make you emperor,” Kylo babbles, heady with the feeling of Hux’s tight heat around him. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

“Yes,” Hux groans, and he comes untouched.

As the vision retreats, Kylo shakes his head. “Fool,” he says aloud. He spends a few extra moments in the ’fresher, hating himself.

The emperor is quieter than usual that day, nodding impassively at each petitioner’s plea and responding in curt one or two-word approvals or denials. He stares at Kylo with hollow eyes through the entirety of their hasty lunch. The afternoon audiences go much the same way as the morning audiences, and then the day is over and they are alone in their chambers. By this point Kylo would have expected his emperor to be buried in his datapad, but His Majesty hasn’t even touched it.

They eat their dinner in silence. Kylo wilts beneath his emperor’s intent yet empty gaze. He eats quickly, and rises to change for bed.

“Why,” the emperor asks suddenly, “do you never touch me?”

Kylo freezes halfway out of his chair.

“I visited the baths this morning. I could smell you. Were you with someone?”

“I was alone,” Kylo manages.

“Were you thinking of someone?”

Kylo is embarrassed, though he feels he ought not to be. “General Hux,” he admits.

His emperor rises, moves around the table to stand beside him. “General Hux no longer exists,” he says.

“I know.”

The emperor’s face, which up till now had been a schooled mask, suddenly crumples. Bright green eyes go dull, and the ruler of the known galaxy lowers his head. “You don’t want me,” he concludes, voice wavering. “You want him.”

Kylo doesn’t know what to do. He realizes he’s still hunched halfway out of his chair; he straightens, arms stiff at his sides.

“You absolute prick,” the emperor snarls through a sob. “You won’t even comfort me.”

“I don’t—”

“No, it’s fine. Forget it. I should be happy, shouldn’t I? I have everything I wanted. You gave me everything I wanted.” His Majesty turns toward the bed. “Where’s that blasted datapad—?”

Kylo’s hand shoots out, catches the emperor by the elbow. It is the first time he has dared to manhandle him since the coronation. The emperor’s head whips around, and there’s fire in his teary eyes. “You _dare_ —” But there’s something beneath the indignation, something that wasn’t there a moment ago, something that calls to the same something within Kylo.

“You’re unhappy,” Kylo says.

“Yes,” the emperor spits. “As if that weren’t bloody obvious.”

“I’m not happy either.”

“Is that so?” The emperor makes a halfhearted attempt to yank his arm out of Kylo’s grasp. “Well, I’m unhappy that the man I love no longer feels the same about me. What are you unhappy about? That you’re tied to me? That you can’t leave?”

Ice sluices through Kylo as though he’s been dropped head-first into a frozen lake. “No—no, I—”

“I’m sorry I’ve gone and got _boring_ , Ren,” and there he is, there’s Hux.

“Hux,” Kylo chokes out. The name feels odd, yet utterly _right_  on his tongue. He drags his emperor—his Hux—backward by the elbow, pulls his body flush against his own, wraps his arms around Hux and holds him there fast.

“R-Ren,” Hux says, sounding wonderfully flustered, and Kylo leans his head back far enough to get a look at Hux’s face. It’s gone a bit pink, that lovely embarrassed blush. Kylo kisses Hux’s cheek, noses along it, trails his lips down Hux’s jaw.

“I want—I want _this_ ,” Kylo murmurs. “I don’t care about anything else. I thought—I thought I was a distraction to you.”

“Ren,” Hux says breathlessly, and Kylo can feel the hammer of his heart, “distract me. Always distract me. Never stop distracting me.”

Kylo squeezes Hux tighter, one hand sliding up into Hux’s hair, knocking his crown askew. It’s perfect, and he sets to work reacquainting himself with Hux’s lips. Somewhere between desperate kisses he remembers what he said in the vision, and that’s perfect too.

“I’ll give you everything you want,” Kylo promises, and he scoops Hux up into his arms and carries him to the bed.


End file.
